Mother Lode: The dogged end of summer

Published 5:21 pm, Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Dog Days of summer is taking on new meaning for me these days. And it’s not just because our washing machine got clogged with a Lego Ninjago again.

Apparently, the expression Dog Days dates to the ancient Greeks and refers to the ascendency of Sirius, the brightest star at this time of summer, known also as the Dog Star. Dog Days were the hottest days of the year and legend has it they often brought war, disaster and other catastrophe with them.

You can say that again.

These days, when I hear "Dog Days" I am oddly paranoid that someone has an inside track on my mental state. I admit it: I’m doggone exhausted. Summer camp is officially over, school has not begun, traveling and lack of routine have run their course. After a summer of eating on the run, our minivan could be swab tested by the CDC for biohazard contamination.

My three kids have exhausted their patience with one another to a degree that would make Sophocles blush, and come 8 p.m. I am ready to hit the hay, dog tired. Their iPads have run the gamut from being strictly timed to being completely quarantined to my final threat of permanent extinction — a doleful chorus that runs on some sort of Sisyphusian loop. And I am faced with inevitable and incessant negotiations with pre-pubescent logic I do not comprehend. At this stage, everything is a negotiation. Even our trampoline has a timeshare system that would put a Florida condo building to shame.

Yet in all these Dog Days, there is an element of quiet somehow, like dust settling after a long hot day. After weeks of iPad withholding, I came down to the kitchen the other day to find all three of my children serenely playing the board game Clue on the back porch, nestled under the hanging ferns. It was such a lovely moment, each child sun kissed, sand stained and leaning lazily into the inevitable guilt of Colonel Mustard, in the drawing room, with the wrench. Until a heated argument began that involved the lead pipe. These quiet dazed moments are fleeting and, as the Dog Days Greeks warn us, often end in catastrophe.

Against this backdrop, imagine my response when I discovered I had somehow overlooked ordering the Kidz Supply box last spring for our back-to-school items. Kidz Supply boxes are pre-made kits that neatly package all you need for your child’s first day back in class. If you order one the spring prior, you are all set; if you do not, you have to gather up random school supplies from an even more random list provided by the Town of Greenwich. Here is one of my favorites from the list: "one pack, Expo 2 Markers, dry Erase, Chisel, Low Odor, Asst 4/Pk." This is one item. There are fourteen more like this.

The Greeks did not have low odor dry erase demands like I do, and I feel this simple difference somehow heightens my Dog Days over theirs. Add in a total solar eclipse and I’ve got one up on them for sure. Talk about Fire and Fury.

I mean, how can I not talk about our recent headline news in context of Sirius' mettlesome promises? Each newspaper that graces our driveway seems worse than the the one before — rife with war, disaster, and catastrophe.

“Mom there is a picture of Trump yelling every single day,” my 8-year-old observed, bringing in the The New York Times.

“He is really shouting in this one, even worse than you Mom!” my 6-year-old George cheerfully chimed in.

But here’s the thing: There is something heartbreaking about the Dog Days, a sort of anticipated nostalgia of our fleeting time. I admit I am desperate for the first day back to school, dry erase chisel inclusive. But despite my exhaustion, I will miss my kids, the hot sun and all the fun we had — especially in these last lazy and fully charged days. Lead pipe or no.

So whether you are in Greenwich or beyond, indeed whether you are with children or running solo, I wish you a very bespoke peace that comes only with this odd time of year. And as a slight chill begins to thread its way through our August days, I highly recommend a shaded porch, a game of Clue and maybe even some Homer. Because with a blink of an eye, autumn will be upon us and summer will be gone, Dog Days and all.